


Short Fics

by theanonymouslibrarians



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theanonymouslibrarians/pseuds/theanonymouslibrarians
Summary: A collection of short fics for the Bartimaeus sequence, not necessarily connected. Some canon compliant, others not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I do not own the Bartimaeus series or any of its characters.  
>  Obviously.

01\. Bartimaeus considered charges like cooking and housekeeping beneath him. So naturally, when Nathaniel ordered Bartimaeus to cook him dinner, Bartimaeus found the largest rat in a nearby alleyway and made a very nice stew. Nathaniel never knew what it was, but he thought it was delicious. 

02\. Nathaniel would never admit it, but he never felt entirely safe with imps and foliots guarding him at night. So, as he grew older and his enemies became more numerous, he took to having Bartimaeus guard him instead. The off-key lullabies and blankets being yanked off him in the middle of the night were small prices to pay for being able to sleep soundly. 

03\. In the years between the incident with the Amulet of Samarkand and what would become known as the Demon Uprising, Bartimaeus was occasionally summoned by magicians other than Nathaniel. The djinni had always found it amusing when the more sadistic of those masters ended up dying from unfortunate accidents. He wasn't sure how to feel, though when, on merging with Nathaniel, he realized most of those deaths weren't accidental at all. 

04\. Years after Nathaniel's death, Bartimaeus was walking around London when he caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the crowd. It took him several minutes to realize that the face was that of Nathaniel's birth mother, whose image Bartimaeus had glimpsed on the last night of Nathaniel's life. 

The djinni had followed her home, unsure of what he was going to do. He had been tempted to kill Nathaniel's parents when, upon searching the house for some sign of their son, he'd only found a box of baby photos in the attic. He'd changed his mind when another boy, maybe six or seven, who looked painfully like Nathaniel had come home from school. 

Bartimaeus settled for waiting until the child was asleep before appearing to the parents in the guise of their dead son (or what Bartimaeus assumed Nathaniel would have looked like at the time they'd given him up). He told them of the young boy, so starved for love and attention, who received insults and was locked in room full of imps and beaten for a minor prank. He told them of the cold and cruel man who the boy became, and of the selfless hero the man turned into. And, of course, he told them of the brave and noble and handsome djinni who never gave up on the boy. 

When Bartimaeus left, he gave the parents a warning not to treat Nathaniel's brother the same way they did his sibling. Then next time Bartimaeus was in London, he went to check up on the boy, but oddly enough the family had moved. 

05\. Nathaniel knew he was asking for trouble when he made Bartimaeus accompany him to a banquet being held for Jane Farrar's birthday. But he knew that people whispered behind his back when he didn't have a plus one and he hated trying to make small talk with paid escorts. Luckily, he didn't need to worry about small talk with Bartimaeus there. Nathaniel's biggest concern was stopping his attractive blonde "date" from challenging their hostess to a baguette duel over a flirtatious comment Jane made to Nathaniel. 

06\. Sometimes Nathaniel wonders why he puts up with Bartimaeus' witty remarks and back talk. Then he finds himself struggling to stay awake during one of Ascobol's or Cormocodran's reports and everything becomes clear. 

07\. Nathaniel never took off of work. Even when he was sick. As far as he was concerned, sick days were a luxury magicians didn't have. Therefore, when he started to feel achey, he put it off as minor exhaustion. Even when his nose became stuffy and his coughs started sounding like he was hacking up a lung, Nathaniel merely thought he had a cold. It wasn't until he was having trouble standing up in the shower and the floor came up to meet him than he thought that maybe, just maybe, he should have gone to a doctor. 

When Nathaniel woke up, he was in the hospital with an IV in his arm. He found out that he had a severe case of the flu and had been brought in by a young Egyptian boy over a week ago. Beyond an embarrassed thanks, Nathaniel and Bartimaeus never talked about the incident. But for several months afterward, Nathaniel allowed Bartimaeus to remain in the Other Place. He told himself that it was because it was too dangerous to summon a djinni when not at full strength, but some lies were too big to convince even himself of. 

08\. After John Mandrake's death, his belongings became treasured keepsakes. Some went to surviving magicians. Kitty was able to get her hands on quite a few items. And others were exhibited in museums. 

Bartimaeus was strolling through an art museum one day, when he came across "The John Mandrake Collection." Many of the drawings were of small, insignificant things. A flowering bush. A sunset. The kid was a talented artist, but most of his artwork was done for himself, not a museum. There was a whole wall, though, of "an unknown Egyptian boy." Bartimaeus stayed there for hours before Kitty found him and he tore himself away, pretending that he'd only just seen the exhibit. 

Later that night, Bartimaeus broke into the museum and stole the entire collection. He hid the paintings in an ancient catacomb that had long since been forgotten by humans. Afterward, whenever Bartimaeus had a lenient master or a bit of free time, he liked to visit the catacomb. It pleased him to see Ptolemy's form again in something other than a mirror, and drawn from the hand of one of the few humans Bartimaeus cared for. 

09\. Nathaniel never cared much for the snow. It was cold and wet. It held up traffic, and sometimes led to him needing to work from home. But somehow, he forgot all of that when a certain djinni threw a snowball at his face and the most important thing became finding a way to return the favor. 

10\. Bartimaeus pretended not to notice how hurt Nathaniel was when yet another master, Jessica Whitwell failed to stand by him. Nathaniel, in turn, pretended not to notice when his djinni left his side and moments later his second master managed to fall into the Thames. 


	2. Post-Ptolemy's Gate AU 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the Bartimaeus series or any of its characters.

The body that was dug out of the ruins in the glass palace scarcely resembled a human. Any white skin was concealed by blood and grime. The wounds themselves were caked in shards of glass. The clean-up crew would have laid the body next to that of the other victims awaiting a burial if it hadn’t, by some miracle, been breathing faintly. As it was, they gingerly placed the body on the stretcher and carried it to one of the few remaining hospitals. 

….. 

It was after midnight when Kitty stormed into the hospital waiting room, having been woken from her sleep with a call from Rebecca Piper. 

“Where is he?” She demanded, walking up to Nathaniel’s assistant. “Is he okay? How is he-” 

“Kitty.” Mrs. Piper interrupted in a tremulous voice. “You need to understand...need to be patient...” 

“Patient?” Kitty gave a disdainful laugh. “It’s been three days! He said he would come back and it’s been-” 

“Kitty! We’re not even sure it’s him.” 

This made the commoner blink. “What do you mean? You said-” 

“I said they found someone in the rubble. We think it’s Mr. Mandrake, because who else would it be? But we can’t...we can’t...identify him.” The last two words were almost whispered. 

“You can’t...I don’t understand! You’re his assistant can’t you...” And then it hit Kitty, and she collapsed weakly onto one of the chairs. 

“He’s still in surgery.” Mrs. Piper continued. “I only found out an hour ago myself. They’re not...not even sure, he’ll...” 

But Kitty didn’t hear much after that. All she could think of was how Jakob had looked after being hit by the Black Tumbler, and wonder what someone would look like after a dome of glass shards fell on him. 

….. 

Bartimaeus stared unblinkingly at the form lying prone on the bed in front of him, as he had for the better part of six weeks. It had been sheer luck that Kitty had summoned him. She had been of the opinion that Bartimaeus had been trapped in Nathaniel’s comatose body. When a month had passed, Kitty had hoped that there was some chance that, if Nathaniel wouldn’t wake up, perhaps she could at least free Bartimaeus. When he had first appeared in a crudely drawn pentacle, ready to smite whichever mortal had interrupted his mourning, Kitty had thought she’d succeeded in separating Bartimaeus from Nathaniel. It took them each the better part of a half hour to bring one another up to date on what had really happened at the Glass Palace, and part of it (how a certain magician had managed to survive, even if barely) was still a mystery to the both of them. 

“You know what I hate?” Bartimaeus asked quietly. Of course Nathaniel didn’t reply. He never did, whether Bartimaeus was telling him some thrilling tale of Bartimaeus and Gilgamesh or trying to have a nice heart-to-heart. “I hate that you turned out to be so...so noble. You’re not like Ptolemy, you know? He was always kind and curious. He never held me on Earth longer than I wanted to remain. Never threatened me with imprisonment in a tin. You, on the other hand, were simply a brat. And holding me on Earth for two whole years? So long I could barely form a frog?” The djinn whistled. “I don’t forgive you for that, by the way. You’ll need to apologize for that. But if you wake up now I’ll graciously allow you to grovel at my feet and then we can put all of that in the past.” 

The boy slept on. Well, Bartimaeus hadn’t been foolish enough to think that would actually wake Nathaniel up. “Honestly, I’ve killed humans for less. It was your damned conscience that did me in. That and your...well, you were never exactly selfless, were you? Not by the time we first met. But you still had a moral code and you still cared about others. When most of your masters are arrogant pricks who care for nothing and no one but themselves, one with any redeeming qualities is refreshing. I’ll admit it I...I grew...fond of you. Alright? You’ll never hear me say it again, but I did. And by the time those qualities were driven out of you, or at least buried deep, it was too late; I couldn’t bring myself to harm you. Or the boy you'd been. I'll deny I said this if you ever wake up, but I imagine you know it anyway.” 

Bartimaeus paused. “I hate that you never trusted me until that last night. No, don’t deny it!” The boy didn’t. “After everything I did for you...and I never let your name slip to anyone...then you go blabbing it to Kitty! Not that you can’t trust her, but you barely knew her! And let me tell you, it was tempting those last two years! You were such a prat! But I never let it drop. It would have been so easy during those nice little group summonings you had. I bet Ascobol would have loved it! Although, I never liked him. Maybe Cormocodran or Mwamba? I hated them slightly less. But, no! I never even let the first letter slip! Not that it did me much good. You just drifted farther and farther away. And then, just when I’d all but given up on you, you pull that little stunt and decide to go and die for me! Honestly, Nat! Who does that?” The djinni sighed. “But I’ll forgive you for all of that if you just wake up, okay?” 

Bartimaeus really didn’t expect anything to come from that speech. He’d made similar ones during previous nights’ vigils. Why not? No one was around to hear him. Besides, Bartimaeus had never said everything he had wanted to say to Ptolemy. If there was even a chance Nathaniel could hear him, Bartimaeus would suck up his pride and say his piece. 

What he didn’t expect, was to see blue eyes flicker open. A frown creased Nathaniel’s face. Bartimaeus didn’t dare to move. He’d been hoping for this for so long...but it had been months! Could he be- 

Then, Nathaniel’s expression changed to one of understanding. “H-h...” The boy coughed. “Hello, Ptol...ptolemy.” His voice quavered. “B-bartimaeus says...hell-hello.” And then, looking extremely pleased with himself for getting this out, he closed his eyes again. 


	3. Bartimaeus and Faquarl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own the Bartimaeus series or any of its characters.

1\. “You’ll be the death of me, Bartimaeus, you really will.” Bartimaeus could still remember the tone of Faquarl when he’d said this. Angry. Exasperated. Amused. Neither of them had thought that this prediction would one day come true. 

2\. The first time Bartimaeus and Faquarl met, they were young and hadn’t had the chance to grow bitter just yet. Their first few jobs in Mesopotamia were done together. They actually made a good team. Which made it all the more difficult when they were eventually pitted against one another. Initially it was easy to maintain their friendship. After all, masters changed all the time. But the wars seemed to never end. All around them, their fellow djinn were dying, and sometimes Bartimaeus and Faquarl were the ones who killed them. Any innocence they’d had was quickly lost, and it wasn’t long before they realized that there was every chance that they’d need to kill each other. Neither one had said so aloud, but each decided to build up a healthy hatred for the other. Only pain could come from allowing affection to grow. 

3\. If there was one thing Bartimaeus and Faquarl agreed on, it was that some of the worst charges involved acting. There was something degrading about being asked to prance around a stage and declare one’s undying love for one another. Particularly in rhyme. Because of this, Faquarl and Bartimaeus had come to a tacit agreement to cause as much chaos during rehearsals as possible, in hopes of being dismissed before opening night. Unfortunately, their master seemed to enjoy their alterations to his work, which was how “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” became a comedy instead of a tragedy. 

4\. It was a sad fact of life that, at some point, all djinn served a master whose sole interest in them was for sexual purposes. After all, djinn could take whatever form their master desired. Some masters wanted the illusion of love. Others wanted to fulfill every dark fantasy without the threat of legal retribution. But regardless of the magician’s motives, the fact remained that the djinn seldom had any choice in the matter. 

It sullied their essences, making them feel dirty. It was the ultimate humiliation, being forced to simulate enjoyment and affection for someone who cared nothing for them, or beg for mercy so that some sadist could feel powerful. Most djinn bid their time, pretending to be defeated. The closer the contact a magician had with a djinni, the more likely it was that the magician would make a mistake. And then the djinni would have its revenge. But revenge didn’t erase what had happened or prevent it from happening again. 

The first time it had happened to Faquarl was also the first time it had happened to Bartimaeus. They’d been serving the same master, who just happened to be curious as to what a ménage trois would be like. For weeks afterwards Bartimaeus hadn’t made any snide or sarcastic remarks, speaking only when spoken to. For the rest of his existence, Faquarl intentionally chose forms that humans found unattractive, in hopes of dissuading other masters from making similar requests. Years later, Faquarl had been on another charge when he’d glimpsed their old master. The magician hadn’t noticed Faquarl, not even when a meat cleaver had embedded itself in his stomach. 

5\. Faquarl always both loved and hated being around Bartimaeus. Faquarl had slowly grown more bitter over the years. The older he got, the harder he found it to feel anything but anger while he was on Earth. Bartimaeus, on the other hand, while obviously possessing a fair amount of sorrow and anger himself, still found it in him to see beauty in the world. There was scarcely a moment when Bartimaeus didn’t have some witty comment to make or some amusing idea of how to make their enslavement more bearable. Sometimes when Faquarl was with Bartimaeus he was overwhelmed by jealousy that the other djinni could still frequently feel things such as joy. Other times, Faquarl could allow himself be drawn in by Bartimaeus’ antics; he could almost forget the rage that was slowly taking over him. Almost. 

6\. Despite their long rivalry, Bartimaeus couldn't quite bring himself to feel smug when his latest triumph won Faquarl a session in the Essence Rack. He'd deny it if Faquarl ever asked him, but it wasn't an accident when the 500 pound stone Bartimaeus was using to build a bridge slipped from his hands just as Faquarl’s master was sailing beneath him. 

7\. “Missed a spot!”

The portly stable hand glanced up to see an olive-skinned, curly-haired youth sitting cross-legged on the stall door. Frowning, Faquarl stopped shoveling manure. “Bartimaeus.” 

“Faquarl.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was flying through Sparta today and I thought I caught sight of your tentacles. Decided to pay you a visit.” 

“Did you? How very kind of you. I must warn you, Bartimaeus, my current task may not seem becoming for a spirit of my level, but I have been charged to protect my master and his property. With lethal force, if necessary.” 

Bartimaeus waved a hand dismissively, “That won’t be necessary. I’m just doing a bit of sightseeing.” 

“Is that so?” Faquarl asked suspiciously. He resumed his task, glancing at Bartimaeus out of the corner of his eye. “And your master...does he know you’re here? Or are you here on his orders?” 

Bartimaeus shrugged, leaping down from the door to lean against it. “My master’s given me a week off. 

“Has he now? A whole week? Some king, I suppose.” Generally, the more powerful one’s master was, the more likely one was to be given periods of rest. Naturally, Faquarl’s master was some small-time merchant who could only control Faquarl and a few minor imps at one time. 

Bartimaeus smiled, cheeks dimpling, and, had Faquarl not known better, he would have said it was a fond one. “No. Just some little pipsqueak in Egypt. Royalty, but unlikely to become king.” Faquarl grunted. “He’s given me a whole week to do whatever I want! You won’t believe what I've seen! There are vast forests where no magician and scarcely any humans live! Mountains that are so tall that humans can’t breathe the air at the top!” 

“Lovely.” 

The other djinni didn’t seem to notice the lack of enthusiasm in Faquarl’s voice. “And my master has such ideas! He’s interested in the Other Place. He wants to go there one day.” 

At this Faquarl gave a snort of derision. “So, he’s mad, is he?” 

“He is not!” Bartimaeus sounded suspiciously angry at this insult. “Oh, I don’t believe he’ll succeed. But Pt...he’s quite intelligent for a human!” 

“Yes, the crazy one’s always are.” 

In a flash, the youth was inches from the stable hand’s face, his face red from utter fury. “HE. IS. NOT. CRAZY.” 

For a moment, neither one spoke or moved. Then, Faquarl slowly shook his head. “Oh, Bartimaeus. Poor, poor Bartimaeus. You’re right of course. It’s not your master who has gone mad. It’s you. You actually care about him, don’t you? Well, I suppose it’s not the first time. That girl in Jerusalem-” 

“I was right about her!” Bartimaeus pointed out. “She set us free!” 

Faquarl waved a hand. “She was not a magician. Your master has enslaved you. Eccentric as he may be, he-” 

“You’re wrong there.” Bartimaeus said quietly. “He hasn’t enslaved me. He wants to work towards a peace between spirits and humans. One built on mutual respect. It will never happen, but he hasn’t charged me with anything. I serve him because I wish to.” 

The stable hand stared at the djinni, his expression flickering between disgust and astonishment. “You’re not bound...and yet...you haven’t killed him? Oh, Bartimaeus, that is perverse! Where is the djinni who defeated Ammet? Who battled Humbaba? Has slavery driven you insane?” Faquarl shook his head. “Well, I suppose it does so to many weaker spirits over time. Still, even with your penchant for the creatures, I never thought you would have stooped so low as to fall in love with one.” 

The rage left Bartimaeus’ face, replaced with a look of frustration. “Look, I’m sure if you met him, you’d understand why I serve him. Let me put in a word for you. Maybe after you finish with this master, mine could summon you. You have no idea how it can be when you’re summoned by someone who actually cares for you! And Alexandria! You have no idea how-” 

“Fascinating, I’m sure. But, if you’ll forgive me, not all of us have masters who are so generous and I’ll get the Stipples if I don’t finish mucking out the stables before sunrise.” Faquarl turned away, unable to so much as look at the djinni who’d sunk so low, and resumed his work. When he glanced up five minutes later, Bartimaeus was gone. 

Still, Faquarl felt slightly guilty for snapping at the other djinni, when a noise made him glance up and he saw that someone had cleaned out all of the stalls on the opposite side of the stable.  


8\. Occasionally, Faquarl attended Makepeace’s plays. Always under an assumed name, and always mingling with the crowd. Not that any of the magicians knew what Hopkins looked like, but one couldn’t be too careful. It was during one of these occasions that Faquarl set eyes on one of Makepeace’s friends, an up-and-coming magician named John Mandrake, and, more importantly, Mandrake’s slave, a familiar looking Egyptian boy. 

Initially, it amused Faquarl to see Bartimaeus in this predicament. The djinni clearly resented a guard duty which entailed listening to some fictitious djinni wax lyrical about its human love. It served Bartimaeus right for all the trouble he’d caused Faquarl over the years. 

The second time Faquarl saw Bartimaeus at the theater, months after the first, the other djinni had obviously seen better days. His form flickered occasionally on some of the higher planes, and his essence was visibly sore from prolonged servitude. Faquarl could empathize, but he still didn’t feel too badly for the other djinni. After all, had it not been for Bartimaeus, Faquarl wouldn’t have spent several months trapped in that safe after Lovelace’s death. 

The third time, Faquarl couldn’t help being moved to pity. True, he and Bartimaeus had had their little spats, but the normally upbeat djinni looked positively miserable. If the state of his essence was anything to go by, Bartimaeus hadn’t been dismissed in almost a year. It was sheer madness to allow a spirit to deteriorate to that state, and that this was no mere imp or foliot but Sakhr al-Jinni himself made it worse! Faquarl considered having Bartimaeus’ master killed. He could do it quite easily without detection. But the memory of the flames licking at his essence tempered his pity. No; he didn't owe Bartimaeus such a favor. 

“Quentin,” Faquarl said, after the show, “I couldn’t help but notice your friend, John Mandrake.” 

Quentin’s eyes lit up. “Ah, yes! John! Very ambitious and talented young lad. I have high hopes he’ll join our efforts.” 

“Hmmm...yes. Well, he looked slightly...restless during the play. I was wondering if you had ever thought of asking him to help out. Perhaps perform in one of your plays? I’m sure it would be thrilling for him and entertaining for the Prime Minister.” 

Makepeace stared at Faquarl for a while and for a moment the djinni wondered if he’d crossed the line. That he’d said something so bizarre that he had aroused the playwright’s suspicions. Then, Makepeace grinned. “Why, Clem! That’s a fantastic idea! I don’t know why I never thought of it before!” 

The next production saw the magician John Mandrake hanging from the ceiling in a gauzy outfit. It was obvious to everyone that the “imp’s” grin was forced. His bodyguard’s wasn’t. 

9\. “YOU IDIOT, BARTIMAEUS” Faquarl roared. 

“For the last time!” The other djinni wailed, dodging yet another knife thrown in his direction. “It wasn’t my fault!” 

“IT WAS ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT!” THUD! Another knife embedded itself in the wall, inches from Bartimaeus’ head. “ONE JOB!” THUD! “YOU HAD ONE JOB!” THUD! 

“And I did it!” Bartimaeus ducked behind a counter for shelter. “I followed directions to a tee! But we were out of garlic salt-” 

“THERE,” THUD! “WAS,” THUD! “MORE,” THUD! “IN,” THUD! “THE STOREROOM!” 

“I didn’t know that! And how was I supposed to know that garlic salt wasn’t half garlic half salt?” Bartimaeus chanced a peak at the livid chef...and was hit in the head with a frying pan. 

10\. After the Demon Uprising, Bartimaeus was seldom summoned. Kitty had discovered that he was alive, but had led the world to believe that the brave djinni Bartimaeus had gone out in a blaze of glory, dying with John Mandrake. On the rare occasions he was summoned, though, Bartimaeus found himself adding two new forms to his usual guises. One was Nathaniel. The other was an overweight chef. The forms, for better or for worse, reminded Bartimaeus of all he had lost. 


	4. If Nathaniel Had Lived Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I do not own the Bartimaeus Sequence or any of its characters

1\. Nathaniel wasn’t sure how he envisioned his first date with Kitty going, but it wasn’t with a tiny little fly whispering in his ear, “Tell her she completes you! It works!”

2\. It made absolutely no sense. The author of the play had been responsible for the destruction of London and the deaths of countless people. Moreover, in helping to create a new government, Kitty had ensured that all people received accurate education in regard to magicians, spirits, and the Other Place. But somehow, despite all logic, Swans of  Araby was being turned into a movie.

3\. It was a testament to his vanity, Nathaniel thought, that he now hated mirrors. He would have smashed every single one of  the things , but he knew that Kitty and Bartimaeus would know why and he couldn’t stand to imagine the look of pity and understanding on their faces. But, as he stared at his reflection, leaning his hands against the sink for support, Nathaniel couldn’t help but wonder if it would be worth it just so he wouldn’t need to see the scars that riddled his whole body. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t have thin white or red lines, or even indentations.

“They don’t look half bad, you know.” Nathaniel’s eyes flickered to the reflection of the Egyptian boy leaning in the doorway. “They make you look...tough.”

Despite himself, Nathaniel smirked. “Well, I suppose anything’s better than tentacles.”

4\. Kitty hadn’t planned to become the prime minister. She still wasn’t sure how she’d actually gained the job. All she knew was that, after London had almost been destroyed, the surviving magicians were looking to her for help, and the commoners seemed to think that her association with the magician and d jinni  who had saved them made her an authority figure. 

But one day, as she sat with the council members debating how much money should be spent reconstructing a museum that had been demolished in the upheaval of the rebellion, someone said, “Well, Prime Minister, what will it be?”

And everyone turned to look at Kitty.

5\. It was months after Nathaniel came home from the hospital that he realized that Bartimaeus rarely went into the kitchen. He’d lean in the doorway and chat with Nathaniel as the magician ate, but he never went in unless Nathaniel couldn’t possibly make do without help. It took Nathaniel another month to realize why.

“I’m sorry about  Faquarl .” Nathaniel told Bartimaeus one day, as the two sat together watching tv. 

“Sorry?” Bartimaeus scoffed. “Why? He would have killed us both!”

“I know...but he...he was your friend and-”

“ Faquarl and I weren’t friends.” Bartimaeus said  tersely.  ”We hated each other. It was inevitable that one of us killed the other. I’m just glad he didn’t kill me.”

Nathaniel was silent for a moment. “He was what the magicians made him.”

Bartimaeus didn’t say anything after that and not long after he left the room, saying he was bored. Nathaniel later found him looking through an encyclopedia of djinn.

6\. After the death of the Resistance members, Kitty hadn’t believed that she would ever find a place that really felt like home. But pouring herself a cup of tea in the kitchen of the townhouse she shared with Nathaniel and  Bartiameus and listening to Nathaniel yell at Bartimaeus because  someone had taken a pair of scissors to every single one of his lacy-cuffed shirts, she realized that she didn’t think she could be happy anywhere else.

7\. It wasn’t unusual for Nathaniel to summon Bartimaeus. Bartimaeus spent a fair amount of time on Earth these days. The difference between now and a year ago was that now Bartimaeus was never confined by pentacles or charges, and he was dismissed whenever he wished to return to the other place. What was unusual was for Nathaniel to be pacing, hands clenched, unable to meet Bartimaeus’ eyes for longer than a few seconds.

“Well?” Bartimaeus asked, impatiently after half a minute had gone by and Nathaniel hadn’t said anything. “Is this a social call or is there some new threat?”

“B- bartimaeus ...”

Bartimaeus waited a second, then, “It must be pretty bad if it’s got you in this state!”

“I. ..I need to...” 

“Well, is it vampires? Another golem?”

“No, nothing like that...”

“ Ooo ! I know, Jane Farrar’s returned and she and Kitty are fighting over you and you need me to-”

“I need to ask you something!” Nathaniel spoke over the djinni.

Bartimaeus paused. “Well, go on.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath. “I need...I was wondering...that is...would you be my best man?”

8\. “Tell me about him.” Nathaniel said one day, out of the blue.

He was lying on his bed, while Bartimaeus sat cross-legged at the foot, thumbing through a magazine. The djinni’s eyes flickered up to meet Nathaniel’s gaze, before dropping back to the magazine. 

“Him?”

“Ptolemy.” Nathaniel s cooted up  so that he was sitting up and leaning against the headboard. “What was he like?”

“Why?” 

Bartimaeus looked at him without blinking and Nathaniel realized for the first time just how unusual it was for the djinni to be completely still. Usually he was constantly shifting, either  through changing  forms or through various gestures. But now...it was if Bartimaeus had been turned to stone.

Nathaniel glanced away. “Well...I know he was important to you-”

The djinni gave a dry, humorless chuckle. “Yes. He  _was_ “important” to me.”

“Look.” Nathaniel murmured uneasily. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to...to bring up bad memories. You don’t need to talk-”

“It’s not...it’s...” Bartimaeus sighed and moved so that he was laying on his side next to Nathaniel. “It’s just no one’s ever  _asked_ me about Ptolemy before. Other than Kitty, that is.” A flicker of pain crossed his face. “After...at first, after he died, I tried to tell some other djinn about him.  Faquarl , for instance.” He shook his head sadly. “Well, you know his opinion of humans. He thought I was insane. Perverse. Others just didn’t care.”

Nathaniel waited a moment. “I care. Would you tell me about him?” He asks quietly. “Please?”

The djinni nodded, rolling over onto his back so that he was staring at the ceiling. “Ptolemy...Ptolemy was everything to me.”

9\. It was scarcely a month after the Demon Rebellion when Kitty walked into her office to find her parents sitting in front of her desk. They had a long talk and, at some points, council members rushed in to see who was shouting. When  her parents left, Kitty wasn’t sure if she wanted to see them again, but she still felt lighter than she had in years.

10\.  It was over two years after the fall of the British government, that Bartimaeus, Kitty, and Nathaniel ran into  Ammet . They were in Jerusalem, trying to find the ruins of Solomon’s palace, when Nathaniel saw a bottle and decided it would be a good idea to open it. 

Any gratitude the  marid may have had toward his savior vanished at the sight of Bartimaeus. The three were able to send  Ammet back to the Other Place, but not before the  marid had managed to toss Kitty against a nearby boulder. The doctors said her injuries were fairly minor and that she would recover after a night in the hospital, but nothing anyone said could erase the guilt Bartimaeus felt. The certainty that he should have done a better job of protecting her.


	5. Domestic Fluff

01\. “So.” Bartimaeus says, one day, looking much more flustered than usual. “You and Kitty. You’ll be getting married soon.

“Mmhm.” Nathaniel glances up from his book. “A little over a week.”

“And afterwards...the two of you will be going on a honeymoon.”

“To Aruba. You know that!”

“Yes, yes.” Bartimaeus begins fiddling with a zipper on his jacket. “It’s just...the two of you will be alone on the honeymoon.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Yes...it’s just...well...Nat...do you actually know how to...?”

“How to what?” Nathaniel narrows his eyes, looking up at the djinni, who’s behaving very oddly.

Bartimaeus clears his throat. “Well, you see...when a couple goes a honeymoon...they usually go to...well...”

“OH MY...SHUT UP!” Nathaniel flushes, suddenly understanding what the djinni was getting at.

“I just wanted to make sure-” Bartimaeus stops as a dictionary is lobbed in his direction.

“We,” Nathaniel hisses, “are never talking about this again. Understand?”

“Yes! Yes! Fine with me!” Bartimaeus says hurriedly, avoiding the magician’s eyes.

Nathaniel glares at him for a moment, then resumes reading his book, jotting down notes in the margins.

“But seriously, Nat, you do know how, right?” 

  


02\. Kitty and Nathaniel’s wedding is a small affair. Oh, they can’t quite manage to keep it out of the papers. The press has a field day with trite little headlines like, “The Magician and the Commoner,” and even invent the joint name of “KittyNat” for the pair.

Still, they manage to keep the exact location a secret by only inviting a handful of guests: the Hyrneks, Ms. Lutyens, and Mr. Buttons. Bartimaeus is Nathaniel’s best man, and Ms. Piper is Kitty’s maid-of-honor. There are no groomsmen or bridesmaids, neither Kitty nor Nathaniel having anyone they’re close enough to to ask.

Kitty had thought long and hard about whether or not to invite her parents. Ultimately, she had decided that she was just not ready. 

  


03\. Bartimaeus isn’t surprised or hurt when he’s not invited on the honeymoon. He’d rather not walk in on his two humans consummating their relationship. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit anxious. Two whole weeks in Aruba without any djinni to protect them...anything could go wrong. Besides, Bartimaeus isn’t entirely sure that Nathaniel knows how to swim. 

  


04\. Kitty doesn’t tell Nathaniel, but sometimes it’s very hard to go out in public with him. Her aged appearance makes people think that she’s older than she is and, when they see her with a man who’s obviously in his twenties and realize that they’re together, they look at her with disdain. Equally hard is when they look at her with pity, perhaps wondering if she’s rich and Nathaniel is only with her for her money. Kitty tries to ignore the looks, and tell herself that it doesn’t matter what people think. But, still, it hurts. 

  


05\. When Nathaniel hears that Kitty is pregnant, it’s the most terrifying moment of his life. Oh, he puts on a big grin, and holds her tight. He’s always been good at lying. But inside, he’s thinking about how he’s never had a father. Not really. How is he supposed to raise a child, and what if he ruins his baby the way he ruined himself? 

  


06\. When Kitty finds out she’s pregnant, she’s terrified. It’s not that she doesn’t want the baby. It’s not that she’s afraid Nathaniel will be a bad father or that she will be a bad mother. She knows they won’t be perfect, but they’ll manage alright, and Bartimaeus will be quick to tell them if they’re doing something wrong. It’s that she’s not sure if her trip to the Other Place will affect their baby. She’s young, but the trip aged her, and she sometimes feels winded by activities that she could have done without breaking a sweat before her journey. She hears that sometimes babies born to older couples suffer from birth defects. Will her past decisions harm her future child and will the child be able to forgive her? 

  


07\. When Kitty wants to name their son Ptolemy, in honor of, well, Ptolemy, Bartimaeus is grateful that Nathaniel stops her. Nathaniel says that it’s because their son would get teased for having a name like that, but Bartimaeus thinks that Nathaniel knows that it would be too painful for Bartimaeus to hear another child called by that name every day. They settle on Alexander. 

  


08\. “It’ll be okay, you know.” Nathaniel glances up at the ceiling above the crib, where a squat, bug-eyed toad is sitting. Ever since they’d brought Alexander home from the hospital, Bartimaeus had been spending more and more time watching over the infant. “I mean, sure he’ll have your genes, but I think with Kitty’s he has a decent chance of looking okay.”

Nathaniel gives a humorless chuckle. “I don’t care what he ends up looking like. It’s just...I...Bartimaeus-”

“You’re a better man than you were three years ago, Nathaniel. And you still have a conscience.”

“But, what if I-”

“Look, you obviously love him. And that’s the most important thing of all. Or so I hear. I’ve never had children, myself. Now, go back to sleep. It’s late, and Alexander and I are bonding.” 

  


09\. Bartimaeus isn’t used to being around children. Of all the duties magicians have summoned him to do over the years, babysitting isn’t one of them. On the contrary. Whenever he had been around magicians with children of their own, the magicians had bound him with even harsher spells. It was rare for Bartimaeus to even see the children and, whenever he’d been in the same room as them, his masters had always watched him with a suspicious, fearful gaze, as if they thought he’d devour their offspring if given a chance.

Nathaniel and Kitty are relaxed around him. They don’t bind him with any restrictions, instead trusting in their bond to keep Bartimaeus from attacking them. Still, it’s somewhat of a surprise when, one day, the doorbell rings, and Nathaniel shoves his newborn son into Bartimaeus’ arms, asking him to watch him while he sees who it is. 

  


10\. Bartimaeus will deny it if Nathaniel or Kitty ever ask him, but he spends countless hours coaching Alexander. From the day the kid is born, Bartimaeus uses every moment he can get alone with the baby to teach him.

Finally, when Alexander is almost a year old and Nathaniel and Kitty are eating breakfast, Bartimaeus waltzes into the dining room and the baby gives a cry of glee and says his first word: “Bamae! Bamae!”

Well, it’s close enough. 


End file.
